


Years Apart

by Coffeebookboy, tashewgirl101



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A bit of usuk, Forgive Me, FrUK, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mostly just a whole lot of heart break, Rated mature for depictions of dramatized angst and mental illness, USUK - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6762541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeebookboy/pseuds/Coffeebookboy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashewgirl101/pseuds/tashewgirl101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>!!!CURRENTLY A DEAD FIC!!!<br/>-- May be revived someday in the future, but as of now, is dead and incomplete. Sorry! --<br/>This is complete angst and realistic situations applied to the fictional aspects of Arthur and Francis as nations; mainly their immortality. It's set in the very recent past (and present day). Each chapter is a combination of an unsent letter composed from Arthur's point of view and a diary entry by Francis. The story shows the growth of the two as lovers spending years apart after having recently been engaged. For them this will take years, but for readers- only a matter of chapters. Each chapter is cowritten by EJ (coffeebookboy) writing as Arthur and Anna (tashewgirl101) writing as Francis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

What went wrong?

Arthur sent a series of texts conveying his love. This differed from his normal behavior and Francis didn't answer them, but how could this possibly lead to years apart?

“Angleterre, I’m so glad you answered, I was getting worried. I’m so sorry that I didn’t answer your messages sooner. I have been so busy and I know that is not an excuse, I will not let it happen again.” Francis uttered rapidly. There was a long moment of dead silence on the other side of the line. “Angleterre?” The frenchman could hear his finacé breathing, a shaky sound, as if he’d been crying. Still, the other man didn’t respond. Francis broke down, panic flooding his voice.

“Arthur please tell me if something is wrong!” The emotion would’ve been enough to shake even the firmest of men or women alike. “I cannot right any wrongs I have committed if I don’t know how I’ve upset you! Please!” He began to cry. He had tried his hardest not to do exactly that, but it was useless. Eventually Arthur spoke softly, a mere mumble creeping its way through a fuzzy receiver.

“I don’t know what’s wrong.. but something is very wrong and has been for some time.” The Englishman paused to sniffle, his voice shaky and hushed. “You say you love me, and I know you believe it.. but I feel like it doesn’t mean anything anymore. All the things I love about you are.. gone. I can still see them in you, but I don’t know what happened to the Francis who _loves_ me.. the Francis I fell in love with.” He kept on like this for awhile, going over everything that was wrong, occasionally pausing as he became too emotional.

It was a shock for Francis, who had assumed Arthur was happy with their relationship. Seeing as a few months prior, Arthur had proposed, the frenchman had been indulging in the attitude that it was perfect. However, he had been extremely busy lately and hardly had time to contact Arthur as much as the man may have preferred. His finacé being quite demanding, the Brit wasn’t satisfied with this. Even so, Arthur decided that as long as Francis was happy all was well. Upon finding out most of Francis’ extra responsibilities were out of trying to “better” himself for his future husband,

Arthur was having a crisis. He ranted and described the man that he had fallen in love with. Every little nuance and habit, every single trait he adored. As he described them he realized he hadn't seen many of them in years. All of these emotions pouring out of him were a mix of love, confusion, frustration and concern for his lover. Francis listened intently. "These are the reasons I love you. This is the man I adore and know and have dedicated myself to him. He is my everything." He spoke, heart pounding in his ears. Francis took a deep breath and responded. "I do not know him. I do not know who you have just described, although he sounds like a very lovely person." The Brit was stunned into silence momentarily and then once again was pulled into a passionate burst where he tried to reason things out. All the while he tried very hard to seem calm and collected, failing to do so.

They went on like this for what must have been two hours before Francis broke a substantial silence that must have built up.

“If everything you say is true, cher.. There is only one solution.”

Arthur felt his blood go cold. He gulped and sniffled, wiping his eyes and waiting for what he knew was coming.

“We need time apart. A break.” Francis finished.

His partner instantly shattered and was thrown into emotional hysteria, shaking and the works. “I.. I..” It became obvious that Francis would have to be the voice of reason here.

“Shh, listen Arthur.. It wouldn’t be forever. You said yourself that I have lost who I am and that is very true. I haven’t been happy in a very long time and as you described to me in detail the Francis you love, I realized I don’t know who it is. I remember him, faintly… but I lost him long ago. If that is what it takes to make you happy, I will become him again.”

Arthur cut in at this. “But I don’t want you to keep doing things for me! I don’t want you to be living for me, I need you to live for yourself. And I don’t want you to go!” Francis sighed heavily, trying again.

“I need to do this for me as well. I cannot continue to be with you if I am making you unhappy. I must find myself so I can be happy again. Then and only then I can give myself to you, understand?”

There was a long pause. Broken, lost, confused. Arthur felt them all inside him. His worst fear was losing Francis. After all the years they’d wasted before finally being together, finally finding happiness and peace. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Francis and knowing he had to wake up every morning alone and then last though the day until he went to bed, also without him. It wasn’t so much the kisses and the caresses, the actions that made them romantic, passionate and sensual. Instead, Arthur found himself reliving every soft breath that escaped the frenchman’s lips and every soft hum; the feeling of the man’s presence in the room. Singularly and individually, Arthur’s mind focused on Francis’ eyes, voice, skin… Going so far as to realize even being apart, yet aware of your heart belonging to another and their heart being yours, was comfort in day to day life. There was so much he’d taken for granted. He missed his perfect Frenchman already.

Slowly rousing himself from his fantasies and forcing his tears to halt, he said perhaps the hardest two syllables he’d ever forced from his throat.

“Okay.”

And that was that.


	2. Painful Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each chapter consists of a diary entry by Francis and a letter written by Arthur. This one starts off with the two of them coming to terms with the change occurring.

Arthur's texts that had been left unacknowledged went something like this:

_ “I miss you. I adore you, Everything about you. Your smile is the most gorgeous thing to ever shine, I love it more than any star or the sun. Your laugh and your voice are the most gorgeous sounds to ever grace my ears and I’ve heard angels voices from heaven over the years. If you ever ceased to love me I’m sure nothing would change. Because even as I grieved the loss of warmth, I wouldn’t cease to love you all the same, I would pester you and follow you and pretend things had stayed in the same frame, afraid of facing the change you’d arranged. But let’s not speak of this foul and cruel happening that is truly impossible due to our own dependence on each other’s hearts. I love you. Perhaps subtly, but endlessly. Powerful even if smothered in the eyes of the public. My adoration for your being is untainted by the stains of time or rains or rhymes or rot that have attacked it through the centuries. Still through all this I find I love only one truly. Tis thee. Never forget the value you have for me Francis. The love I have for only you. Never forget how much I need you and how I always will. Remember that, and the feel of my lips. If nothing else, just this.” _

 

4 avril 2010 - Francis’ Diary

If I had been awake to respond to these sweet and sincere messages; if I had checked my phone that day, would I still have him as mine? The poetic prose reassured me I still have him as mine, but it does not feel this way. It feels as if we did say “goodbye” even if the  words were not uttered. Even though it was “I will see you in my dreams” that I last let flow from my shaking lips, it feels as if it was “goodbye.” 

I realized later it would have made no difference if I had noticed them and responded. He has had his mind made up. Those messages where a farewell whether he knew it or not. They were written as proof of his love through time apart. I know I will need them, I just wish this didn’t have to happen in the first place, I wish it had never come to this point. 

I feel my heart shatter and my world rain down on me as he tells me what he has been missing from me and as I sit in the debris, I long to be the man he spoke of from long ago. The man he loves. I long to pick up these pieces and put them back together. Then when I have done this, I will return to him. 

How long will it take? I have no idea. Years may pass. All I know is I have a long ways to go and he is worth it. Everything I have to do to get him back in my arms will be worth it. I know this.

I don’t know how I will go to work tomorrow, I don’t know how I will do my work or eat or sleep tonight. I’ve been doing it all for him, but I need to find a way to stop this. He said he did not like that it was all for him, so I will make it for me. For the first time in a long time, I will do the things I want and need in order to be happy.

  
  


4 April 2010 - An unsent letter

Dear Francis,  
I’m doing as you suggested, writing a letter I cannot send.. as much as this action pains me. When I had begun to realize the elements gone wrong with our relationship, the feelings that had gone absent.. I never intended to tell you. I could tell you were blissfully unaware and having recently been engaged I simply couldn’t imagine doing that disservice to you. Even later when I became emotionally wretched and I spilled my pains to you, I couldn’t have imagined that you would suggest time apart. For hours after we said our farewells I threw myself about my room in agony, wishing to turn back time and take back everything I’d told you. However, after more tears being shed than I would ever admit to even God Almighty Himself (if such a spirit exists), I have found myself in a state of broken acceptance. Lying in my bed, desperately holding to the pillows as if they are the person I want here most, I have come to the conclusion that this truly needed to happen. For your sake, mostly, but also for mine. I simply cannot continue to be in love with someone who isn’t anyone. You’ve lost who you are, everything I adore so much about you is gone. I will understand if you can never find this again, but I am so grateful you’re trying.. Even if it means being apart. I am more than aware this may take years.  
  
I’m trying not to think about that.

 

I don’t know how long I can keep this up, Francis. It hurts. Please forgive me if I contact you on our anniversary in a few days… Please pick up the phone if I do. I miss your voice, your eyes, your touch. I miss everything about you. Everything. I’m sorry. I truly am. I’m praying this will be for the best of us. I’m praying this doesn’t mean I’ve lost you for good. 

 

I love you,

Arthur

 


	3. I Miss You

10 mai 2010 - Francis' Diary

It has been 37 days since Arthur and I started our break. I am a mess already. The blanket that I accidently took home the last time I went to visit has stopped smelling of him, though that does not stop me from wrapping myself in it every night. I have learned to force the tears to stop at his memory and to keep a straight face as I enter meetings in which the topic is his precious nation. 

The anniversary of our entente cordiale came four days after the start of this and my boss gave me the courtesy of a day off and an empty house. I wanted to message him so badly, but I knew I could not. It felt so wrong to be with out him on that day. We have always spent that day together whether we were fighting a war, quarreling, or happily enjoying the comfort of each other. Instead, my day was spent thinking of him and his words and rereading the letters and notes he’s ever given me. The idea crossed my mind to call a friend, but I am not allowed to tell Antonio or Gilbert and I knew that Matthew and Alfred would be with Arthur. I knew Matthew would come over if I asked, but I could not do that. It would not be fair to either him or Arthur who needed the comfort more than I did. 

I miss him so much, every day my longing to hold him in my arms grows. I fear I might break before I can find myself. I feel I might die from heart ache. Upon hearing any mention of him from Gilbert or Antonio I feel as if someone is stabbing me through the heart and my vision clouds. I breathe, smile and laugh the best I can, forcing my sobs back into my chest where they will rest until I let them fall in private.

I have begun packing up my house for the move to the new one closer to my work place. It is nicer than the house I have lived in for 60 years, but I know that I will mourn the loss of my home which holds many memories for me. It holds the last time Arthur came into my country. It holds the the feel of him in my arms as we made love. It hold the nights spent in the kitchen, speaking in hushed whispers our plans for the future. I had told Arthur that while I am traveling with Antonio and Gilbert he is free to visit my home, but in the pain and heartbreak of the night I had forgotten to tell him that I will not be living there. He told me he would not visit but I will tell Alfred to inform him of my moving either way. 

Over the summer when I had planned to visit Arthur, I will be visiting Alfred and Matthew; in an attempt to distract myself while I am out of work. Then I will be leaving with Antonio to meet up with Gilbert and begin our travels. Again a distraction, but one I need in order to complete my goal of finding myself once more. I am going back to when I was at my best to find where to go from here. It seemed fitting. I was planning on traveling either way, but it would have been after the honeymoon with Arthur as my companion. This will certainly not be the same kind of trip, but I know that isn’t a bad thing. I love spending time with him, yet I know I have not been spending much time with my friends outside of work and I do miss the days of endless laughter, drinking and flirting. It was all very good fun.

I wonder what he will do with his time. I know he spoke of a university in America that he was applying for. I hope he does that; I hope he spends his time on something he can fully enjoy and that it will distract him from me. I feel as I am not vain in saying that he must be having a very difficult time dealing with this distance. I only want him to be happy, to be able to be happy without me by his side. It is not fair to either of us to have him so dependent upon me when I am unable to spend every moment with him, no matter how much I want to. 

  
  


15 May 2010 - An unsent letter

Dear Francis,

I would have written earlier, but I haven’t really had time to stop and think. When I do, I am far too emotional to hold a pen properly. I’ve been abandoned emotionally. You may think Alfred and Matthew would be fussing over me, but it’s the exact opposite. Even when I have tried to reach out to them, I wasn’t given much comfort. It is difficult to talk to Matthew, he doesn’t have much to say except that he loves me and will be there for me. I understand he is very busy, so I have stopped messaging him. Alfred is always here, always, but he refuses to let me ask for help. From my understanding, he is angry at both of us for this and he doesn’t want to deal with my pain just yet. It makes this more difficult than expected, having no one. However, Matthew suspects Alfred will soften with time and I can do nothing but hope. I am alone. I always end up like this somehow. I cannot tell my brothers what has happened, at least not yet. My birthday was hell. Everyone who contacted me asked about you and I was forced to lie. Everyone knew we would normally be together on that day and I wish we had been. I almost called you then, in a painful drunken stupor. I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t drink. I heard about your moving and I wasn’t informed of your new address. I know this is for the best. It was the first time Alfred mentioned you since all this and he immediately tried to distract me again. It is slowly becoming normal for me to go out of my way in order to avoid thinking about you. I have less work than normal and my boss is never home, so I have been reading book upon book. Sometimes when I’m reading I can pretend you’re right there beside me, reading over my shoulder and nagging for attention. This hurts, but helps a bit. I do see you in my dreams, the nights I sleep. I get not but an hour of sleep most nights, but the few nights that I sleep soundly are sweet, filled with you and I wake up with tears in my eyes. I don’t want to let go of my thoughts of you, my attachment, even the pain. However, I know eventually this may become easier. I couldn’t guess how long it may take.

I love you,

Arthur


	4. Birthday Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis is grappling with the fact that he doesn't know what it's like to not have Arthur nearby on his birthday. Arthur's letter is missing. Has he given up so quickly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> APOLOGIES FOR THE DELAYED UPDATE!!! We both just sort of lost track of time. new content on the way for both our private accounts as well as a continuation of this story. I didn't write for this one simply because Arthur is currently not writing the letters. Keep posted to find out why. Thank you for reading! -EJ

July 15, 

Yesterday was my birthday.  It was the first time in many years that Arthur has not shown up at my home, if not even insult me while shyly telling me “Happy Birthday” and kissing me.

It was a physical pain throughout the day.  I found myself looking at my phone waiting for a message or phone call, but none came from him.

I told Antonio and Gilbert along with anyone who asked that I would be spending the day with Arthur, but I would go out with them to celebrate next weekend.

Matthew came over to spend the day with me.  I have a feeling he was afraid I would do something bad to myself.  I tried to send him away, but he insisted on making me breakfast just as he used to do when he was a boy.  I forced myself to eat the pancakes he had drenched in maple syrup.  It was the first thing I had eaten in nearly 2 days and it felt odd to have my stomach full.

We spent the rest of the day walking around my country, enjoying the celebrations that were being held.

Matthew offered to stay for the night, but I assured him that was not necessary.  I spend the night, as I find myself doing when I have no work to keep me busy, staring at the ceiling wishing I had Arthur’s small frame in my arms.  Wishing I had his soft hair tickling my nose as buried my face in it; wishing I was not alone in the moment.  Wishing I could do something more than just lay there and pity myself.

I finally cried myself to sleep and managed to sleep for a few hours before I was awoken by the cold that had taken over my room due to the window I had left open.  I dragged myself to close it before crawling under my covers and turning to face the wall, listening to the clock tick away the hours.  Eventually I saw the sun breach the skyline and shine some warmth into my room, although it seemed to pass over me completely.  

I do wish these feelings would go away.  I want to be able to smile again;  to laugh freely and not worry if someone can read the pain behind it.

I hope this passes.  I don’t know how long I can stand this.  It is equivalent to torture; I am unable to do anything truly to it’s fullest.  Even the things I enjoy doing have become boring and dull, as if the only thing that gives me any joy is absent.


	5. Thinking

 10? 11? October 2011

Francis,

I would like to remember what it's like to love. Wouldn't you? You know what I mean... to love... to really love. Not this awful painful stuff I'm riddled with. To simply be grateful for something beyond anything else mattering. I'm sure you feel the same.

Well, actually, I can't be sure you feel anything of the sort. You're likely to be sat in some elegant monastery who knows where, thinking of me pleasantly between meditation sessions.

No... I know that's unreasonable. I never was an idealist. You told me that loads over the years we fought endlessly.

_"You're so negative, Rosbif."_

_"Oh come off your high horse, Arthur. We all want love, non?"_

I can almost hear you still. In that foolishly pleasant accent of yours. God why did I have to muck this up so badly. I assume you'd be fine with it. A part of me knows you might not come back. There was always the possibility you'd break your promise and sleep around, the exact reason. I didn't ask you to promise it. You insisted on it but... you could always fall in love with someone better. You could still choose to not come back and I almost hope you will, I really don't deserve you any longer.

Before you theoretically bicker with that point. Just ask yourself what it would take for poor pathetic lone wolf Arthur fucking Kirkland to abandon inhibitions and throw himself into the arms of the first sympathetic and mildly handsome bloke he sees.

If you've remembered a younger me and cringed horrifically, be ready to skin me alive. You've hit the head of the nail.

Jesus Christ, Francis.... I love you so much. Why is this so hard? I'm disgusting. You've hardly been gone 18 months and I've reverted to all my worst habits. Skipping meals and the works. Can't remember the last time I slept a full night properly.

I'm so furious with myself, down right livid. But moreso, I'm crumbling continuously because I let you down.

I had one promise to keep that might possibly ensure my hopes that you'll come back to me and I broke it.

God above, please Francis.... forgive me for what I'm going to do.

 

Arthur

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please feel free to leave us any reactions, feelings and your own questions you are left with at the end of each chapter! The comment section is there for this purpose and we love to hear from you! We'd love to see people discussing the story with each other as well, seeing as this is a very emotional roller coaster from beginning to end. Good luck!  
> -EJ


End file.
